


Prey

by tonepoem



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, even incubi have learning curves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-16 19:46:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11259720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonepoem/pseuds/tonepoem
Summary: But the techniques of seduction that he had so painstakingly learned in the Realm Below did him little good here.  He'd learned the Path of the Thousand Small Cuts, and the Hundred Caresses of Ice and Silk, and...but what good was it to remember all these subtle, courtly arts when people here used smartphones and sent selfies to each other and there was so much competition?An inept incubus tries to find prey.





	Prey

**Author's Note:**

  * For [1010nabulation](https://archiveofourown.org/users/1010nabulation/gifts).



Rafael nursed his mocha with triple whipped cream and shivered, warming his hands against the paper cup. He liked whipped cream plenty, but that wasn't the real kind of cream that he longed for. For the past hour he'd been sitting in the cafe, clutching his jacket around him, and trying not to stare too obviously at the handsome young men who frequented the cafe. (Women, too, but they interested him less.) 

When he'd emerged from the Realm Below, his brothers and cousins had encouraged him to move to this particular city. An enterprising incubus, they had said, would find a wider variety of prey here. And they hadn't been precisely wrong. The city abounded with confident, chattering college students, and handsome older men with touches of gray in their hair just so, and busy professionals whose cutting smiles matched their well-tailored suits and mirror-polished shoes. Rafael had been intoxicated just watching all those succulent _men_.

But the techniques of seduction that he had so painstakingly learned in the Realm Below did him little good here. He'd learned the Path of the Thousand Small Cuts, and the Hundred Caresses of Ice and Silk, and...but what good was it to remember all these subtle, courtly arts when people here used smartphones and sent selfies to each other and there was so much competition?

Take yesterday, for instance. Rafael had approached six different young men outside a gym, only to have them laugh at him. One of them had made fun of his accent. Most of them had looked at him pityingly when he admitted that he had a membership (a gift from one of his cousins) but didn't know how to use the equipment. There had been no gym equipment in the Realm Below; why would there be, when a well-fed incubus could shapeshift to the desired amount of muscle on a whim? Another had earnestly explained where he could pick up some kind of magical substance called "steroids," and offered to get Rafael in touch with his dealer. Rafael, offended at the idea that he needed external enhancement, had cut that short, which he was starting to regret. His ability to enhance his physique with his own shapeshifting magic had been suffering lately because of prolonged starvation. Magical substances wouldn't help him.

Today Rafael had decided to try the cafe instead. But whenever he tried to catch a man's eye and smile, he was usually ignored. And he was getting so _hungry_. Last week he had even been desperate enough to accept an older brother's cast-off, an amiable man in his twenties who was all too happy for another round of nourishing sex. But it was humiliating to be unable to secure his own prey.

 _I'm going to do better this week,_ Rafael promised himself. As nice as the triple whipped cream mocha was, he could really do with something headier.

So engrossed was he in his drink that he almost missed the entrance of the red-haired man. But once his attention was drawn by that sleek, bright head of hair, it was impossible to look away. He was staring in spite of himself.

There was a lot to admire: broad shoulders and arms with just the right amount of muscle, masculine but not overdefined, and a trim figure. And that _face_ \--square-jawed, with chiseled angles and sea-gray eyes. Rafael started: the red-haired man was looking at _him_. He forced himself to smile, then winced. He was doing poorly for someone attempting a seduction, but he was so ravenous it was hard to think.

The red-haired man turned away to join the queue, and Rafael slumped in his seat. So much for that. He took another tiny sip of his mocha, wondering why some incubi had all the luck while he couldn't catch the attention of any tasty-looking mortal men.

Several minutes later, he was still wallowing in self-pity when a shadow fell over his fingers. Rafael glanced up, startled.

The red-haired man slid confidently into the seat across from his. "Crowded tonight," he observed.

It wasn't very, but Rafael was busy keeping himself from licking his lips at man's smooth, rich baritone. "I'm Rafael," he blurted out. Manners, right? He couldn't just drag his prey off to the room he was subletting from one of his cousins. "How do you do?"

"James," came the answer. No last name; but then, Rafael hadn't given one either. (His full name took a good fifteen minutes to recite, in the language of infernals. He'd learned his first week in the earthly realm that humans just got up and left in the middle when he tried to introduce himself properly.) James stroked the rim of his cup in a way that Rafael couldn't help but find suggestive. "I haven't seen you around here before. New?"

"Y-yes," Rafael said, which was mostly true. He hadn't been here often, anyway.

James smiled lazily at Rafael. "New to town, then, and not many friends yet?"

"Something like that."

James sipped his drink; Rafael, with his supernaturally enhanced senses, could easily smell the unsweetened French roast. Then he gestured toward a cluster of students with their backpacks and smiled again. "You know, the kids probably want the tables for their laptops so they can get in some studying. It's exam season, after all."

Rafael hadn't known that. "Oh, of course," he said, feeling foolish.

"I could take you back to my place," James said, leaned forward just slightly. "Less of a crowd"-- _What crowd?_ Rafael thought again--"and I've got some bourbon to die for."

"That sounds good," Rafael said, heartbeat speeding up. He knew it sounded too good to be true, but after yesterday's string of rejections, he was willing to take the chance. Ordinary humans couldn't harm him--well, other than by ignoring his overtures--and he wasn't in a position to be choosy anymore.

"Come on." James stood smoothly and gestured for Rafael to precede him. Rafael did so, tossing his drink into the waste receptacle on the way out.

The sun was starting to set, and the shadows stretched across the pavement and into the street. Rafael looked uncertainly at James, then hurried to catch up. James had a long, confident stride. While Rafael was tempted to linger behind him for the view, he made a point of walking side by side with the human so as not to arouse suspicion.

They passed any number of other humans, but all of Rafael's attention was focused on James, so that he stumbled and tripped several times. James didn't seem to take this amiss, however. Rafael was intoxicated by James's rich cologne and the underlying faint hint of sweat, the distinct musk that said _prey_. Except, as James led him farther away from the cafe, Rafael was starting to feel like the quarry himself.

At least James only lived a few blocks away, in a fancy apartment above a boutique of some sort. Rafael caught a glimpse through the window glass of handmade candles and imported knick-knacks, but in all honestly he didn't care about details like that. He was eager to get into James's apartment so they could have some privacy and he could _feed_.

Rafael managed to follow James up the stairs without tripping again, thank all the devils, and he waited impatiently while James turned the key in the lock. At last the door opened, and James said, "Come on in."

Rafael wasn't one of the kinds of infernal creatures who needed an invitation, but he appreciated it all the same. "Thank you," he said.

The lights had switched on automatically. Rafael looked around and was impressed by what he saw: opulence of a purely human kind, decor in rich shades of burgundy, rococo antique furniture. One cabinet contained a charming collection of statuettes, mostly depicting classical male nudes.

James shut the door behind him. He was smiling again, even more broadly this time. "You're quite a lovely young man," he said, without the slightest trace of shame or self-consciousness. "But you look at people like you're going to eat them with your eyes. That sort of thing scares a lot of people off, you know." _But not me,_ was the unspoken follow-up.

Rafael flushed.

"Take off your clothes," James said.

"E-excuse me?" Rafael blurted out. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

"You heard me. I can tell you want this--and you're going to get it, but only if you do as I tell you."

Rafael couldn't deny the first part. Alone with his prey (prey?), he was having trouble denying his need. Blood had surged to his cock, and there was no way to hide the bulge in his pants. "All right," he whispered. With trembling hands, he started to disrobe.

Rafael had difficulty with the various buttons and the zipper of his trousers. If James had laughed, he might have fled out of sheer mortification. But he reminded himself that he couldn't continue to survive on the charity of other incubi. He had to secure a meal of his own. If that meant complying with a human's demands, instead of being the one in charge, so be it.

At last his clothes were puddled on the floor next to him. Rafael's toes curled in the thick, luxurious carpet, and he shivered. His hard cock bobbed as he thought about feeding. "Please," he said, shocked by the raw need in his voice. "I--I--" Words failed him, and he colored, wondering what the other incubi would think of his obvious inadequacy. The meal was _right here_. He should be pressing James down, drowning him in kisses and feeding on his lust, but all he could do was look hopefully at James, waiting for him to take the initiative. The fact that James was entirely uncowed flustered Rafael.

"Very good," James purred. "I want you to jack yourself off for me."

Dismay gripped Rafael. He couldn't very well feed on his _own_ arousal; it didn't work that way, or he wouldn't be having such a terrible time in the city! "I--"

"Do you want satisfaction or not?"

Rafael gulped. "Y-yes." He wasn't embarrassed about being naked, or about the state of his cock, he was embarrassed about the fact that he couldn't seem to think of a way to turn the tables. So he gripped his shaft and began to pump it, first slowly, then with growing enthusiasm.

He thought to look up. James was watching with a pleased expression, eyes crinkled, and there was no mistaking the sizable tent in James's trousers. Rafael revived a little. Even if it wasn't sex, not yet, James's lust made for an enticing appetizer. With greater enthusiasm, Rafael ran his thumb around his cock head and teased his slit as precome began to ooze out. If he had to put on a show to get what he wanted, that was what he was going to do.

Rafael's breathing quickened, but he couldn't _come_ , maddeningly. Not without the stimulus of his prey's own orgasm. To his shock, he heard himself whimpering.

James chuckled softly. "Do you need something?"

"I--I need to touch you," Rafael said, his voice breaking. He was drowning in need; he needed to touch James's skin, to tease pleasure out of the human so he could assuage his hunger pangs. Truth be told, he was starting to get light-headed and he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold out.

"Maybe," James said. "Stay still."

Rafael did so, because he was afraid that James would kick him out and he wouldn't get his meal after all.

James came around behind him and rubbed his erection against Rafael's ass crack. Rafael whimpered some more. The stimulation was gratifying, but _not enough_. James hadn't taken any of his own clothes off. At this rate, Rafael was starting to wonder if he ever would.

"Keep playing with yourself," James said.

"But--"

James backed away, and Rafael cried out at the loss of contact. "Do as I say," James said.

Humiliated, Rafael grabbed his cock again and resumed his ministrations. As soon as he did, James continued rubbing up against Rafael's crack. This only served to whet Rafael's appetite further, however. If he didn't get to have sex _soon_ he was going to faint.

"How badly do you want it up your ass?" James breathed into Rafael's ear.

Rafael gulped. For preference, he'd be the one doing the fucking, driving his prey to delirious delights for a longer feeding session...but he was in a bad position to negotiate. An orgasm was an orgasm, when all was said and done, and if James took him, it would be better than nothing.

James grabbed Rafael's hips and stroked him teasingly. Rafael gasped, hips bucking. James let go after a moment, and Rafael whimpered again. But all was not lost: he heard a zipper being unzipped, and buttons being undone, then the slithering of fabric.

Rafael hardly had any time to prepare himself before James's massive cock shoved into his rear entrance. James hadn't applied any lubricant, although this didn't matter--an incubus was a creature of sensual pleasure, and his body adjusted, as it was designed to. Perhaps James simply liked it rough. It didn't hurt that Rafael had finally secured the desired skin-to-skin contact, and that his feeding could finally commence, even if it wasn't the way he'd originally envisioned.

James shoved Rafael down to the floor, and Rafael gladly yielded. His skin felt exquisitely sensitive wherever it met James's own as he drank in the vital heat of the man's ardor. James's thick shaft plunged in inch by inch, and Rafael bit his lip to keep himself from crying out at the incredible sensation of being filled.

It was all to no avail. Suddenly James withdrew his dick, and Rafael heard himself making hopeless noises in protest. He wriggled against the carpet, raising his ass in the air in invitation.

James didn't need a further invitation. Once more he slammed into Rafael, who couldn't seem to stop whimpering with need. Rafael's own cock was pressed uncomfortably against the carpet, but the friction as James started pistoning into him only added to the pleasure.

"Come for me," James murmured as he drilled Rafael's poor abused hole.

Rafael's voice caught in a half-sob. "I--I can't."

"What," and James's voice was both rough and teasing, "I'm not fucking you hard enough?"

How could he explain to this _human_ \--"I need you to come in me," Rafael said. Because until _James_ came, Rafael couldn't complete his feeding by coming himself. Being teased like this was a torment--tasting the heavy heat of lust, yet his hunger unassuaged.

"You don't sound like you want it all that badly."

Rafael was horrified by the prospect of coming _this close_ yet being left unsatisfied. "No, please! I need--I need your hot spunk splashing inside me! Fill me with your hard dick! I have to have it! I have to be your whore!" He couldn't believe he was saying all these things to a mere human, the very human whom he'd wanted as his prey--yet a thrill ran through his taut dick and balls to be degraded like this.

James didn't waste any time after that. He began pounding into Rafael so forcefully that Rafael's head was driven into the thick carpet and he could scarcely breathe. For that matter, the rest of his body was going to have carpet burns--and he welcomed the thought. Pleasure flowed into him as James's own climax approached, until at last James roared and his dick pulsed and thick spurts of come filled Rafael's poor ass.

This was all the encouragement Rafael needed, and he gasped in mixed gratitude and greed as his own dick spurted onto the carpet and made a hot, sticky mess all over his own belly. He didn't even care that he was soiling James's carpet. All that mattered was that he had finally been able to feed.

After a while, James's breathing slowed and he withdrew. "You're the best incubus I've had in a long time," he observed.

Rafael rolled over and stared up at him. "Y-you knew?"

James laughed at him. "Of course. I can always spot your kind." He smiled, and his eyes were both hot and cold. "Incubi are the most delicious in bed." The smile widened. "There can be more of this, if you want. Every night--as long as you're obedient. You don't have to keep starving."

"Yes," Rafael whispered. "Yes, of course." He didn't think his brothers and cousins would understand an arrangement like this--but what choice did he have? And besides, in a secret corner of his mind, he had to admit that he'd liked it. He couldn't wait for the next night already.


End file.
